Finding the Light
by Aebbe
Summary: Brought up surrounded by the Dark Arts, Sirius Black is determined to prove that he is not like his family, whatever the cost. But sometimes it feels as though he is trapped in the dark... The Marauders' days at school. Sirius-centric, but plenty of JP/LE later on! Canon compliant.
1. Of Pureblood Dreams and Expectations

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that appears in the HP books or films.**

**A/N: This story goes with all my other stories, and can be placed on the same timeline. This is the backstory of the Sirius who appears in my completed story Choices.**

**May as well get that established now that the relationship between the Marauders in this story is friendship only, so if you're looking for romance or anything else between them, look elsewhere. They're very young at the moment, but there will be plenty of James/Lily later on. There will also be mentions of other romances, but no major relationships for Sirius or Remus. I'm a Remus/Tonks shipper, and as this is the backstory for Choices... well, you'd have to read that one, but it excludes the possibility of giving him a romantic happy ending in this one.**

**I dedicate this story to arwenjanelilylyra, an amazing reviewer and writer, who basically gave me my love of the Marauders.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Of Pureblood Dreams and Expectations**

A small boy shot round the corner of the street on a bike, skidded on a patch of gravel and ground to a halt, tumbling off at the bottom of a set of steps. His knees were skinned, his hands filthy and his hair full of dust, but he didn't care. The other little boys laughed uproariously, and he joined them.

It had been a good day. They had ridden their bikes dangerously fast past old ladies who shouted at them; they had thrown pebbles at passing cars, and leaves at each other. They had trespassed in as many places as they could find, and picked plums off somebody else's tree.

Yes, it had been a decidedly good day, but it was over now. He was just about to get up and hand the borrowed bike reluctantly back to its owner, and say goodbye to his newfound friends, when the door at the top of the steps opened. A tall, well-dressed woman with glittering eyes stood in the doorway and looked down at him with cold fury on her face.

"In. Now," was all she said, but his heart sank. He was in trouble again. Big trouble.

* * *

He knew. He knew it all already, so he had stopped listening. Purebloods… Muggles… degrading himself… shaming the family… betraying his upbringing…

Sirius Orion Black had heard it all before.

Unfortunately, his mother noticed that he wasn't listening, and he found himself hitting the wall heavily, pain flooding through his shoulder and bringing tears to his eyes.

"Do you understand me, Sirius?" her voice was low and dangerous. He nodded, simply wanting to escape.

Her lips tightened.

"Well, I do not expect it to happen again. If it does, I shall be very angry, and I shall be forced to tell your father, understand me?"

He nodded again. He did indeed understand, and he had no desire to make her very angry, and even less for her to tell his father.

"Now go and get yourself cleaned up before he comes in. You look disgraceful."

He went.

Up in the bathroom, he washed his hands and face, then kicked off his shoes and trousers and surveyed the damage done to his knees. They were raw and scraped, with drops of blood leaking out. He sat on the edge of the bath, his feet inside, and tried to rinse them off, gritting his teeth as the water stung. His shoulder hurt where he had hit the wall, and he thought he might have bumped the back of his head as well, which he hadn't noticed at the time. Carefully, he felt the tender place, running his fingers through the thick black hair. No wetness, so he wasn't bleeding anyway.

He stared down at his legs, small and bare, and striped where he had poured water over his knees and it had trickled down, leaving clean streaks in the dirt. Setting his jaw and squeezing back the tears, he reached for a sponge and dabbed it over the cuts.

Behind him, the door creaked open and he glanced over his shoulder. A smaller boy had sidled in and was watching him, wide-eyed. He had the same black hair and startlingly blue eyes as Sirius, but while Sirius had the sort of face that drew gazes to him wherever he went and made elderly ladies smile and coo, the younger boy had the sort that faded into the background and wasn't remembered.

"Go away," Sirius snarled, in the mood to take things out on somebody else.

The smaller boy stared at him, unmoved.

"Why were you playing with Muggles?" He couldn't have been more than seven or eight, but his voice was cool and clear, and there was a faint curl of disgust in it on the last word; an imitation of the way their parents spoke.

"'Cause they're more fun than you!" Sirius retorted bitingly, knowing that he was being hurtful, but not caring very much. He was hurting too much himself. The younger boy looked at him with reproach.

"You don't mean that."

But Sirius was angry, and he was fighting back tears, which only made him angrier, and he was in no mood to back down and be nice.

"I do."

He swung his legs out of the bath, ignoring the sharp pain in his knees and the dull ache in his shoulder, grabbed his clothes off the floor and stalked out of the bathroom. His brother followed him. Regulus Black had not yet learnt when to stop pushing things.

"You've made the bathroom a mess. There's water on the floor and mud in the bath."

"Well, Kreacher can clean it up," Sirius said through gritted teeth, as he opened his bedroom door, "Now, go away!" And he marched into his room and slammed the door in his brother's face.

Later, when the pain had faded and he was feeling better, he felt guilty for taking it out on Regulus. It wasn't his little brother's fault, any of it. It was just that Regulus was there, and Sirius didn't get punished quite so badly for shouting at his brother as he did for shouting at his parents. So he was extra nice to Regulus that evening, and let him ride on the real, if child size, broomstick that Sirius had received for his ninth birthday, and they were almost back to being friends again, even if Regulus _was _a silly little twerp.

* * *

Sirius didn't see his Muggle friends again. His mother watched him like a hawk, and there was no escaping, so he was forced to mooch around Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with only the whiny company of Regulus, until their cousins came to stay. Not that that brightened things up much for Sirius, because their cousins were older than they were and all girls. In fact it only meant more rules and restrictions, because when they had guests he was expected to be present and polite all the time.

They liked Regulus better anyway. They petted him, and babied him, and he went along with it and sucked up to them, something Sirius refused to do. He allowed his Aunt Druella to kiss him on the cheek when they met, but his face showed only too plainly what he thought of this ritual, and his aunt sniffed disapprovingly.

"Well, still the moody little boy, I see, Sirius. Such a pity," she remarked to his mother, "He could be a pretty child if only he didn't look so sulky all the time. Still, he'll be off to Hogwarts in a couple of years, won't he? That'll soon knock the sulks out of him."

Sirius scowled still more as his mother agreed stiffly. What did they know? He didn't look sulky all the time, only when he was around them.

And _pretty_? He wasn't _pretty_!

He glowered round at his cousins. Bellatrix, who was almost grown-up these days, was smiling mockingly at him, and Narcissa had the vaguely disgusted look she always seemed to get when forced to be anywhere near him. Andromeda, though, gave him the ghost of a wink, and he felt a little bit better. Andromeda knew he wasn't sulky. She had seen him smile. And she would never call him pretty.

"What are you in trouble for now?" she murmured to him later, as they entered the Dining Room for dinner.

"How d'you know I'm in trouble for anything?" he muttered.

She smirked. "You're always in trouble for something."

He shrugged.

"Went and played with some Muggles," he said defiantly, waiting for her expression of disgust. It didn't come. Instead, she looked thoughtful.

"Oh. Did you like them?"

He gazed at her in surprise.

"They were… okay," he said at last, cautiously, thinking it might be a test, but refusing to lie. But there was no explosion. She just nodded slowly.

"I think they are… mostly. I mean, there are plenty of Muggle-borns at Hogwarts, and some of them are… okay, too. Don't tell anyone I said that, will you?" she added quickly.

He shook his head, too surprised to say anything. Andromeda had never said anything like that before, at least not to him. In fact, he had never heard anybody say such a thing, although he knew there were people who though like that. His parents were always complaining about them. 'Blood Traitors,' they called them, and sometimes 'Muggle-lovers.'

Was Andromeda a Blood Traitor? The thought made him uneasy, especially when he remembered that he himself had played with Muggles for a whole afternoon. Did that make _him _a Blood Traitor? He didn't really know what the term meant, but it didn't sound nice.

On the other hand, the idea of being something he knew his parents hated so much gave him a delightfully rebellious feeling. Maybe he ought to be a Blood Traitor, just to show them. And he had never heard the term 'Muggle-borns' either, although it was obvious what it meant. Why had she used that instead of saying Mudblood? He opened his mouth to ask her.

"Don't you know it's rude to whisper?" Narcissa's haughty tones interrupted them, and Sirius wished once more that it was Andromeda and not Narcissa who was closest in age to him. By the time he started Hogwarts in two years, Andromeda would be going into her final year, but he would have to put up with Narcissa for three whole years, breathing down his neck and reporting everything he did back to his parents.

At least Bellatrix would already have left, he thought with great relief. He liked to spend as little time as possible in his eldest cousin's company. This holiday was going to be bad enough; Bella had recently turned seventeen and could now legally do magic outside school. The thought made Sirius shudder slightly, and he resolved to avoid her whenever possible.

She had always taken a delight in tormenting him. Admittedly, she was always fairly unpleasant to Narcissa too, calling her Prissy Cissie, and saying she was a conceited fool, but she never seemed to take the same pleasure in causing her small physical pains as she did with Sirius. And somehow, for all their differences, Bellatrix and Andromeda seemed to maintain a sort of respectful truce. Probably because they both knew that although Bella would always win a duel, Andromeda would inevitably beat her older sister in a war of words.

The conversation at dinner was dull. They talked about politics, and Sirius closed his ears and concentrated on shovelling as much food as possible inside himself, ignoring Narcissa's pointed looks and sniffs. He knew she thought he was greedy and disgusting, but he didn't care much. He'd rather be greedy and disgusting than pick at his food the way Cissa did. She was so thin her elbows stuck out, and she must be hungry all the time. Sirius couldn't see the point.

Then the conversation turned to Hogwarts, and Sirius pricked his ears up, but after a few complaints about the new subject that had been introduced – Muggle Studies, whatever that might be – they started talking about Bella's new boyfriend, Rodolphus Lestrange. Sirius vaguely remembered Rodolphus Lestrange from various gatherings; a dark, stocky young man with an unpleasant expression. He hadn't liked him very much, and even Bella seemed fairly indifferent when she talked about him, but their parents approved whole-heartedly of him (mainly because he was very rich, Sirius thought), and smiled fondly at Bella as they talked of future marriages and plans.

"And is there anyone on the horizon for you, Andromeda?" Sirius' father asked, with a joviality that Sirius thought sounded very strange coming from him; usually his father was morose and bad-tempered. Bella looked up sharply, as though she quite wanted to hear the answer to that question herself, and Narcissa opened her mouth as though she might say something, but didn't.

"No," Andromeda said tonelessly, "There isn't anybody."

Sirius was fairly sure that he was the only one, apart from Narcissa herself, who had noticed Andromeda's elbow colliding with her younger sister's ribs.

"Ah well, plenty of time," Sirius' father was saying lightly, "You're only fifteen, after all. Give it a year or two."

"Rodolphus has a younger brother, I believe," Sirius' mother pointed out, with a smile, "Now that would be an excellent thing, wouldn't it? The Lestranges are a very good family. You could do a great deal worse, Andromeda."

A faint look of horror crossed Andromeda's face, and then she was back to expressionless. Sirius watched her with interest. It would be quite a useful thing to be able to do, he thought, make your face all blank like that. He could tell that it irritated his mother, but there was nothing actually wrong with it, so there was nothing she could say. And it meant that Andromeda could be thinking whatever she wanted behind that blank mask, and nobody would ever know. Perhaps he should learn it. No. He dismissed that idea. He would never be able to keep it up.

The conversation turned back to the Ministry, whom the Blacks disapproved of, and some bloke called Lord something-or-other, who was doing things the Blacks definitely did approve of, and Sirius returned to his food.

* * *

_Two years later…_

Sirius scuffed his feet and waited for his mother to emerge from Gringotts. She hadn't wanted to leave him outside, but the goblins had some new security rule, and wouldn't let more than two people in at once, even if two of them were children. Walburga Black had been furious, and had tried to play the 'I-am-a-Black-and-will-do-whatever-I-like' card, but the goblins hadn't been impressed. And Regulus was too young and stupid to be left on his own, so with some strict instructions ("I expect you to be _right here _when I come out, Sirius") she had left him. 'Right here' had actually been in the foyer of the bank, under the noses of the goblins, but the sun was shining outside, so he had wandered out onto the street, thinking optimistically that she couldn't blame him so long as he didn't go too far.

Across the road, the Quidditch Supplies shop and the Magical Menagerie were beckoning to him. He looked longingly at them and then glanced up at the imposing doors of Gringotts. His mother would be a while yet. And he was only going over the street; she would be able to see him as soon as she came out. He knew that that wouldn't stop her from being angry, but she was going to be angry that he had left the bank anyway. He might as well earn the anger.

Sirius sauntered across the street, enjoying the sensation of being unsupervised for once. A small boy about his own age, with hair the same colour as his own but sticking out in every direction, was standing in front of the Quidditch Supplies window, his face so close to the glass that his breath was misting it up. Sirius moved closer, curious as to what it was holding the boy's attention. His eyes moved over the window display, but he couldn't see anything special. Just brooms. Some pretty cool brooms, but only brooms. He was just about to go and look at the Magical Menagerie window, when the boy looked up and grinned. He was shorter than Sirius, and skinnier, and he wore glasses.

"My mum and dad are going to buy me one," he said, waving his hand at the window.

"Oh," Sirius returned his gaze to the window. He himself was still riding the kids' broom he had got more than two years ago, and he didn't think his parents would be willing to buy him a new one, even though he had outgrown it really.

"What d'you reckon I should get?"

"Um… I dunno," Sirius wasn't used to people being this friendly when they had just met him, and didn't quite know what to say.

"I wish I could take it to Hogwarts with me," the boy said wistfully, "I don't think it's fair that first years aren't allowed their own brooms," he looked appraisingly at Sirius, "Are you at Hogwarts?"

"I'm starting this year," Sirius informed him.

"Oh great! Me too. My name's James, by the way."

"I'm Sirius."

"Serious? Is that actually your name?" the boy grinned, "Are your mum and dad a bit mental or something?"

Sirius grinned reluctantly.

"It's Sirius, not Serious. S, I, R, I, U, S. But yeah, they are a bit mental. My whole family's called after stars. Sirius is the dog star."

"Where are they? Your mum and dad, I mean. Mine are in Flourish and Blotts. Buying _books_." The boy pulled a face, as though he found this a very boring thing to be buying.

"My mum's in Gringott's with my little brother," Sirius explained.

James' attention had returned to the brooms.

"D'you like Quidditch? Have you got a broom?"

"Only a kids' one," Sirius admitted, "I don't ride it much any more, it's too small. My brother mostly rides it. I haven't really played much Quidditch."

"Really?" the boy looked as though Sirius had been seriously deprived, "But Quidditch is amazing! I can't wait to start playing at Hogwarts. I reckon I might try out for my house team. You should get your parents to buy you a proper broom. The new Cleansweep's supposed to be great… But I think I might go for a Silver Arrow. I really want a Nimbus, obviously, but I don't reckon they'll buy me one. They'll say I'm too young to need a racing broom. But I don't know whether to ask for a Cleansweep or an Arrow. What do you reckon?"

Sirius looked at the window. The boy was obviously some kind of flying nut. All the brooms looked more or less the same to him, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Yeah… the Cleansweep looks good," he agreed, "But I think I'm going to ask for an animal. Maybe an owl. That's something I can actually take to school."

"Oh, right," the boy looked a little disappointed, "Yeah, I suppose having your own owl would be pretty cool. But I'm going to see if I can sneak a broom in. I reckon I can hide it from the teachers. Getting it past my mum'll be the hardest bit. She thinks rules matter."

Sirius grinned, warming to the boy, despite the obsession with brooms.

"Yeah. Mine too."

From the corner of his eye, he saw the doors to Gringotts open, and the figure of his mother came out, Regulus trailing after her. She looked extremely angry.

"That's my mother," he said hastily, "I'd better go. She told me not to wander off…"

"Okay," the boy grinned at him, "See you at Hogwarts!"

* * *

"_What _did I say?" Walburga Black asked through gritted teeth. Sirius knew that the sensible thing would be to apologise meekly and accept the scolding, but recently he hadn't seemed able to stop the arguments pouring out.

"I was only over the street," he protested, "What could have happened?"

"That is not the point," she said coldly.

"What is the point then?" he demanded, even thought his brain was saying, _shut up Sirius_.

She turned to face him, a dangerous glint in her eye.

"The _point_, Sirius, is that I am your mother, and that therefore, you are to do as I say, no matter what you, personally, may happen to think of my instructions."

This time, his brain managed to override his tongue, just. His mother took this as surrender, and turned away again, sweeping up the street. Sirius and Regulus followed.

"Who was that boy you were talking to?" she threw over her shoulder.

"Dunno," Sirius shrugged, "His name's James."

She stopped again and frowned at him.

"Sirius, we have told you this a hundred times. When will you _learn_? You are a Black. That means that you do not simply talk to any common filth you meet on the street. I didn't recognise him at all."

And that, to Walburga Black, was a significant mark against him. The Blacks knew everybody who was worth knowing. Sirius had quite liked the boy, and felt rebellion rise in him again, but he choked it down.

"He wasn't a Mudblood," he offered, "He was talking about Quidditch. And he knows how to fly a broom."

Walburga looked slightly mollified, but she still pursed her lips.

"Sirius, even among wizards, one cannot just make friends with everyone. Some families are simply superior to others, and the Blacks have a reputation to uphold. You are not to make casual acquaintances on the street. Wait until you get to Hogwarts, and Narcissa can introduce you to the right kind of people."

Sirius scowled at the ground. He thought of his supposedly superior family. His parents, who screamed murder at each other and thought nothing of throwing him across a room when they were angry. His cousins, who constantly sniped at each other; Bellatrix, who liked nothing better than to cause people hurt; Narcissa, stuck-up and self-obsessed; and Andromeda, blank-faced and, he was sure, unhappy around her family. He thought of his aunt and uncle, with their sneering and complaining, and of Regulus, the whiny little baby.

He wasn't sure he wanted to meet the 'right people' if they were like the Blacks. He'd rather talk to Mud- no, Muggle-borns. He was trying not to use that word any more. Until recently he hadn't known that there was anything wrong with it, but he had used it at Easter, in front of Andromeda. His cousin had winced.

"Sirius, you know that's a really derogatory term?" she had said.

He had stared at her. "What does… _degotry_… mean?"

"It's der-og-at-or-y," she had said clearly, "and it means it's an insult. A really bad insult. And it's mean. There's nothing wrong with Muggle-borns. They're perfectly nice, a lot of them, and they make just as good witches and wizards as Purebloods do. There's nothing the matter with their blood."

He hadn't really understood, but of the whole of his family, Andromeda was the only one he really liked (except Uncle Alphard, who was good fun, but who lived abroad and only turned up once in a blue moon. And maybe Regulus, sometimes) so he was doing his best to remember.

* * *

The night before he left for Hogwarts, his father summoned him into his study. Sirius went with some trepidation. The only times he had been in there before had been when he was in some kind of big trouble. But although his father was frowning, he didn't look angry. He was smoking a cigar, and used it to gesture at a chair.

"Sit down," he said, peremptorily, and Sirius sat, wrinkling his nose at the strong smell of cigar smoke.

"Big day for you tomorrow," Orion Black said, after a pause.

"Yes," agreed Sirius meekly. He was looking forward to it. To getting out of this house and away from the oppressive influence of his parents.

"The next seven years," said Orion impressively, "will be the most important of your life. School either makes or breaks a wizard. It moulds you into the sort of man you'll be for the rest of your life. By the time you finish, you'll be a fully trained, adult wizard, ready to make your mark on the world. I hope you understand that."

Sirius, who had switched off by the end of the first sentence, nodded solemnly.

"And I expect you," his father went on, "to do your name proud. You're the eldest son. My heir. You have a lot to live up to. I've got high expectations for you, my boy. You're wild and untrained at the moment – your mother's spoilt you…" Sirius opened his mouth to disillusion his father of this astonishing idea, and then realised that that would be the most stupid thing he could do, and closed it again with a snap, "but you're a clever boy," his father went on, not noticing Sirius' expression, "You've got brains. And it's important that you learn to use them in the right way. School will teach you that. You're a Pureblood, Sirius. And you're more than just any old Pureblood. You are the Black Heir. The Blacks are one of the oldest and most respected Pureblood Houses in the country. When you finish school, you'll have the world at your feet. That's something you can be very proud of, but it's not something you can take lightly."

Sirius was listening now, despite himself, his mouth hanging slightly open and an expression of amazement on his face, but Orion Black might almost have been talking to himself for all the notice he was actually taking of his son.

"Pureblood Wizards are the natural leaders of this world. But with power comes responsibility; it is people like you who must prepare to take that responsibility. I believe that change is coming soon. That there will come a time, within your lifetime, if not within mine, when we will not have to hide and skulk behind secrecy and lies. When we can take our rightful place in the world openly. We shall rule those filthy Muggles, and we shall do it well.

"That is my dream. That is the dream of all right-minded Purebloods. But I hope that for you it will be more than a dream. It will not fall into your lap. You must work for it. You must use those brains of yours, Sirius. You must not allow blind sentiment to cloud your judgement. You must think with your head, not your heart; you must be clear-headed, judicious and controlled. Only women and children allow their hearts and sentiments to rule them. You will be a man. You must aim for the very highest, my boy, for that is what you deserve.

"You can learn all of those things at Hogwarts, and more besides. It isn't all about wandwork and potions. It's about character. There has never been a Black who hasn't been in Slytherin, and there's a reason for that. You can learn all the things I have been talking about in that house. The Slytherin ideals are our ideals. There you will learn to use your head and control your heart. There you will learn to understand what power and ambition mean, and you will meet others with the same values. Purebloods belong in Slytherin, for there they will learn how to rule."

Sirius _might_ have been quite impressed. He _might_ have believed it.

If it hadn't been for the fact that his father had always left him in no doubt that he thought Sirius a stupid lout, not a clever Pureblood heir, and had hit him too often for Sirius to have any admiration left for the man.

If it hadn't been for the fact that Andromeda was his favourite cousin, and had told him that Muggle-borns were just as good at magic as Purebloods, and that Muggles themselves were really quite normal.

If it hadn't been for the fact that Orion seemed to be talking about things that were as far from what Sirius wanted as it was possible to get. Power? Responsibility? Ambition? Hard work? Sirius shied away violently from such thoughts.

_Why _did he have to be like that? All he wanted to do was have fun; he didn't want to _rule _anybody. Why did he have to be the Heir? He wished he were the younger son (although having Regulus for an older brother wouldn't be much fun). Then he could be like Uncle Alphard, who was generous and irreverent and funny, and did exactly what he liked.

His father seemed to want him to become like Orion himself, and that was something Sirius knew he could never be. He was going to be a terrible Pureblood Heir.

* * *

**I love reviews and reviewers very very much. You get endless thanks and supplies of virtually edible goodies**


	2. Of Gryffindors and Motorbikes

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that appears in the HP books or films.**

**A/N: Just to note, I have made the years at Hogwarts significantly bigger than they appear to have been in the books. Obviously, in Harry's year, there were only about eight people in Gryffindor – if that's taken as an average though, then a) the number JKR has suggested as being the approximate number of students at Hogwarts at any one time is far too high, and b) the wizarding population of Britain is impossibly small. **

**I've seen that explained by the fact that Harry's year (and presumably the few years immediately ahead of his) was unusually small, due to the fact that its members were born during a war, when people might have been less inclined to bring children into the world. Whether you like that explanation or not, I've chosen to make the years a lot bigger in this story.**

**Oh, and I have used one particular theory about who James Potter's parents were. Comes from certain information from the Black family tree apparently, in case you wondered.**

**Thanks to my reviewers of the first chapter: arwenjanelilylyra, frabjous day, Tessia, WitchOfDarkness13 and Lily Ann Rose! You made me very happy :-D. Lots of mince pies and Christmas goodies for you.**

**This is probably going to be my last update (of anything) before Christmas, so I thought I'd put it up even though I only posted Chapter 1 so recently, as it was the only thing I had ready, and I wanted to post one last thing.**

**Happy Christmas everyone!**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Of Gryffindors and Motorbikes**

He spotted the boy across the platform, being fussed over by a small, thin witch, whose clothes were well-cut and expensive-looking, but whose grey hair flew all over the place just like her son's. The boy spotted him as well and waved, grinning, then rolled his eyes at his mother. Sirius grinned back.

His own mother was not doing any fussing, for which he was glad. Regulus was looking sulky, because he wanted to go to Hogwarts too. Sirius wished they'd just leave so he could get on with it. But Walburga had found her sister-in-law and they were standing talking. They were not, however, so engrossed in the conversation that Walburga did not notice her son's interaction with the boy across the platform. She looked across and frowned.

"Is that the boy you were talking to in Diagon Alley last week, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded, and her frown deepened.

"I don't think that boy is really suitable to be a friend of yours."

"Why not?" demanded Sirius rudely, "Isn't he a Pureblood?"

Aunt Druella looked nosily across at the boy and his mother, and her eyes narrowed.

"Isn't that Dorea, Walburga?"

Walburga's lips tightened dangerously. "Perhaps. I haven't seen her for many years."

Aunt Druella gave her sister-in-law a shrewd look.

"I see it _is_ her then. She married Charlus Potter, didn't she?"

"Yes. And was not then considered a member of the Black family."

"Who is she?" demanded Sirius, "Are they related to us?"

"All Pureblood families are distantly related, Sirius," his mother said smoothly, "But as I told you before, not all Purebloods are desirable acquaintances. The Potters are well-known Blood Traitors. I do not wish to hear of you associating with the boy."

"Don't worry, Aunt Walburga," Narcissa's cool voice cut in, "I don't expect the Potter boy will be in Slytherin."

Walburga smiled thinly at her niece.

"No, you are probably right, Cissa," and she turned away and firmly changed the subject.

"What makes you so sure I'm going to be in Slytherin?" Sirius muttered to Narcissa, as soon as his mother was no longer listening, more in an attempt to shock his aggravatingly collected cousin than anything else. Narcissa merely smiled patronisingly at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sirius. What other house would you be in?"

He thought about it.

"Ravenclaw?"

There was a short laugh behind them, and they turned to see Andromeda grinning at them.

"Don't you know Ravenclaws have to be clever?" she teased him.

"I'm clever!" he protested. She laughed again.

"In your dreams, little cousin. You're not that kind of clever. Anybody would think you were allergic to books, the way you avoid studying. And since when have you been into logic? But you're right, you might not be in Slytherin. Maybe you'll be in Hufflepuff…"

He glared furiously at her, even though he knew she was only teasing, and he never minded it as much from her as from Bella or Cissa, but she had turned away from him to break in on her mother and aunt's conversation.

"Sorry to interrupt. But the train's going in a minute."

Then there was a flurry for them all to get on the train, and Sirius hardly had time to say goodbye to Regulus before he was on board, and the whistle was blowing, and he was off to Hogwarts, free for the first time in his life.

Andromeda had disappeared off to the Prefects' Carriage, and he was left with Narcissa, who glared at him.

"I'm going to find my friends," she said, coldly, "Don't think you're going to tag along with me."

"Wouldn't if you paid me," he muttered angrily, but she had already turned on her heel and strutted off down the corridor. Sirius turned away and began to struggle off in the opposite direction, dragging his trunk.

"Hey!" a voice spoke behind him, and he turned to find himself looking into the face of the messy-haired, bespectacled boy his mother had been so disapproving of. The boy grinned.

"Want to find a carriage?"

For just a moment, Sirius hesitated. He was not supposed to be making friends with this boy. But then a reckless rebelliousness seized him. He was off to Hogwarts. His parents weren't here; only Andromeda and Narcissa, and Andromeda _wouldn't _do anything about it and Narcissa _couldn't_. He could make friends with whoever he liked. He could get himself sorted into whatever house he liked. Maybe he didn't want to be in Slytherin. Maybe he'd just show them that Sirius Black wasn't like other Blacks…

He grinned. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

Sirius had been expecting the long train ride to be very boring, but actually, it turned out to be quite exciting. He was fairly sure that there were at least one or two other first years somewhere who were the children of friends of his parents, and he probably ought to have been with them.

But James Potter was a lot more fun.

They found themselves in a carriage of other boys (a mixture of second and first years), one or two of whom James seemed to know. They accepted Sirius easily, although he didn't recognise any of them, when James introduced him as 'my friend Sirius.'

He couldn't help a glow of something slightly unfamiliar inside him at those words.

The boys were noisy and energetic and Sirius liked them. The only unpleasant moment came thanks to the greasy-haired boy and the stuck-up ginger girl who had come into the carriage and sat down by the window, taking no part in the good-natured conversation but instead having some sort of argument between themselves. The girl had seemed a bit upset, but Sirius hadn't taken much notice of them, until the boy had mentioned Slytherin.

Then Sirius had discovered for the first time that he had got himself into a carriage of Gryffindors.

It had ended all right of course, with a joke (which the sour-faced pair had failed to appreciate), but Sirius had had to admit that his whole family had been in Slytherin. James had seemed a bit shocked by this news. He was still talking about it as they crossed to the castle in the boats.

"So, you don't really want to be in Slytherin?" the messy-haired boy asked, gazing curiously at Sirius.

Sirius shrugged. If he was honest, until he had said that to Narcissa on the platform, it had never occurred to him that he could possibly be in any other house. Blacks just weren't. And even then, it had been a joke. Now he was wondering, for the first time, whether it was really possible for him to be in a different house. It was a daring, dangerous, and definitely thrilling thought. _That _would show them. The thought of his parents' reactions was terrifying, but also very funny. And it would get him out from under Narcissa's nose too. She couldn't spy on him if he wasn't in the same house as her.

And he'd rather be in a house with James than with Ginger and Greasy from the train.

"But you don't really get a choice, do you?" he muttered.

"I dunno," said James, "I don't know what happens. But it's supposed to be on your character, isn't it? And I bet if you really don't want to be in a house, that says something about your character, doesn't it? I mean, if you were really meant to be a Slytherin, you'd _want _to be a Slytherin, wouldn't you?"

"I s'pose," said Sirius dubiously.

At that moment though, they arrived at the castle, and the conversation was over for now.

* * *

"Arkwright, Herbert," Professor McGonagall, a strict-looking teacher with spectacles and her hair in a bun, read out the first name on the list, and Arkwright, Herbert stumbled forward to put the hat on his head. A moment later, he was sorted into Hufflepuff, and James leaned over to Sirius with a grin.

"Well, that doesn't look too painful. I thought the Sorting would be worse than that."

"Aston, Bryony," went into Ravenclaw, "Avery, Tacitus," into Slytherin, and "Azackerly, Lauren," became the first Gryffindor. The next name was "Black, Sirius."

Sirius stood up and walked out, putting a slight swagger into his step to hide his nerves. He sat down and put the hat on his head.

"_Ah_," a voice said in his head, and he jumped, "_Another Black. Hmm… don't usually have any trouble with the Blacks. But you're not quite like the others, are you? Not quite the little Pureblood Slytherin all your cousins were. Started asking questions, have you?_" Sirius was so startled that he could think of no answer, and the hat went on, "_Yes… you're much more difficult. The Slytherin's there of course. Couldn't not be, with your upbringing. Cunning… yes, you've got that. Confidence too. Some people might call it arrogance, but I wouldn't go that far,_" Sirius bristled, and the hat chuckled, "A_h, you didn't like that one, did you? You know, if I put you in Slytherin, I'm sure you'd do well. You can certainly be devious enough. And all those uncomfortable little doubts you've got would soon be ironed out. You could be an excellent Pureblood Heir, you know. But… I'm not sure. There are some traits there that are unusual in a Black._ _Not unheard of, but unusual. Kindness. Generosity…_" Sirius didn't like the way this was going. Kindness? "_Not Hufflepuff,_" he thought desperately, "_Please not Hufflepuff._"

The hat chuckled again.

"_Hufflepuff? Good gracious, no. You're much too volatile for a Hufflepuff. You've certainly got intelligence though. Enough to be a Ravenclaw…_"

"_Ha_!" Sirius thought. That would show Andromeda!

"_But intelligence alone does not make a Ravenclaw_," the hat went on, "_Too reckless, I think. And not enough logical thought or analytical skill. So… how about Gryffindor? That would be interesting, wouldn't it? I often find that Slytherin and Gryffindor are two sides of the same coin. A little bit more of this characteristic, and the balance swings one way; a little bit less of that one, and it swings the other way. Perhaps that's why they always seem to dislike each other so much; because they are not so different, no matter what they'd like to think. They can often be very similar… It's just that their motives tend to differ. What are _your _motives, Sirius Black? You've got the bravery for Gryffindor. Bravery to the point of foolhardiness. Well, that's not unusual for a Gryffindor, but it certainly would be for a Slytherin._"

"Gryffindor, like my dad," James had said, and the thought of being in the same house as James was a good one. Something told Sirius he could get along very well with James Potter.

"_Oh, you like the idea of Gryffindor?" _said the hat, with surprise, "_Well, that's interesting. And it seems to be the one that fits best too. This'll be a turn-up for the books, but here goes_… GRYFFINDOR!"

Suddenly grinning widely, Sirius pulled the hat off his head and strode over to the cheering Gryffindor table. He sneaked a look over at the line of remaining first years, and saw James beaming and giving him a thumbs up.

Then he looked over at the Slytherin table. There were a lot of familiar faces there, and none of them looked happy. Narcissa looked livid. He found Andromeda, whose face was the old blank mask. But when she caught his eyes on her, she gave him a small smile and an even smaller wink. Andromeda did not mind. Somehow, he thought she might not even be all that surprised.

He himself was feeling slightly dizzy and euphoric. He was sure that later he would be horrified, and the prospect of facing his parents with the news was terrifying. But his parents seemed a long way away, and now he felt only delight. He had shown them all. He had rebelled against all his parents' stupid ideas, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Sirius Black was his own person, with his own reputation to make that was nothing to do with the Black family name. _Stuff_ the Black family name, he thought happily, as he sat down next to Lauren Azackerly.

He was free.

He was less happy when, a few people further down the list, the ginger-haired girl from the train (who turned out to be Evans, Lily) was also sorted into Gryffindor. But his own dismay was more than made up for by the horrified expression he caught on the face of the greasy-haired boy, who was still waiting in line.

Well, if she was a Gryffindor, they should probably make an effort to get along. She was sitting next to him, and he turned to her with an engaging grin (the one he usually kept for unsuspecting old ladies), but she glared at him and turned her back to talk to the person on her other side, a mousy-haired boy whose name Sirius had not caught, but who had been sorted a few minutes after Evans. He looked rather ill, though, with big shadows under his eyes, and he looked at his plate and mumbled instead of talking properly. Maybe she only talked to the people she felt sorry for, Sirius thought sourly, disgruntled that his charm had not worked.

Then it was James' turn, and Sirius watched eagerly as James placed the hat on his head. It rested there for only a second, before calling out "Gryffindor!" There was no doubt about where James Potter belonged. James slide into the seat opposite Sirius, grinning broadly.

"You made it!" he crowed happily, "Are you pleased?"

Sirius grinned.

"Yeah," he nodded over at the Slytherin table, "You should have seen my cousin's face though."

James' grin turned to a slight frown.

"Are you going to be in trouble?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Probably. But I'm always in trouble for something. I'll live."

At least, he hoped he would. The words were more bravado than anything, because his gut had clenched slightly at the reminder.

James helped himself happily to the food that had appeared before them.

"Well, I'm glad you're in my house, mate. This is going to be _great_."

* * *

There were four dormitories per year; two for girls and two for boys. Lists of who was in each one were posted on the doors.

"Yes!" James exclaimed, as they scanned the list, "We're together!" He grinned at Sirius, who was once more a little disconcerted by the boy's overwhelming desire to be friends with him.

Of course, he wanted to be friends too, but James didn't even seem to care that the Blacks were a Slytherin family, who called people like the Potters 'Blood Traitors.'

They clattered into the dormitory. There were two boys there already, and two more followed them in. One was the shy, ill-looking boy who had been talking to Ginger at dinner. Or rather listening to her, as he hadn't seemed to contribute much to the conversation. One of the others, Sirius recognised from the train; he had been one of the boys James had apparently known already, although Sirius couldn't remember his name. The other two were a brown-haired boy who, judging by the way he looked around in wonderment at everything, was a Mud- no, _Muggle-born_, and a small, blonde boy with chubby features and a slightly babyish face.

"I'm James Potter," James announced to the room in general, "Who are all of you?" he grinned at Sirius and the boy from the train, "I know you two, but what about you lot?"

"I'm Luke Dalton," said the Muggle-born boy cheerfully.

"Nestor Cornfoot," the one Sirius recognised introduced himself to those who didn't know him, and then looked at Sirius, "I didn't know on the train that you were a Black. No wonder you said all your family had been in Slytherin. How come you're not?"

"I don't know," said Sirius, slightly uncomfortably, although the boy sounded more curiously interested than hostile, "I s'pose I'm just different."

"What are your names?" James directed the conversation away from Sirius, looking at the remaining two boys.

"I'm Peter Pettigrew," said the chubby boy, smiling excitedly at them all.

"Um… Remus Lupin," the last boy muttered, not meeting anybody's eyes. Sirius looked curiously at him. What was the matter with him? Was he just painfully shy? But why did he look so ill?

"Anyone play Quidditch?" James asked, bouncing onto the bed by the window.

Nestor nodded eagerly, and he and James began to talk about favourite teams and different brooms. Peter Pettigrew contributed the odd comment, and Luke Dalton listened avidly, asking interested questions and comparing it to something called Football, which was apparently a Muggle sport.

Remus Lupin began to unpack his things silently, and Sirius sat down on the bed beside James', feeling a bit out of it. He wished he knew more about Quidditch; it was embarrassing being the only Pureblood in the room who didn't. But his parents considered the game common, and hadn't let him play.

"What other games do Muggles play?" James asked Luke curiously.

"Well…" Luke thought about it, "Loads, really. There's rugby… that's a little bit like football, only you hold the ball in your hands and it's a lot rougher. And cricket. We play that at school…"

"And have you _really_ never ridden a broom?" Peter Pettigrew asked.

"Of course he hasn't," James said scornfully, "Muggles don't ride brooms."

"No, we ride bikes," Luke agreed with a grin.

"But you're not a Muggle," Nestor pointed out.

"No… but I thought I was until I got my letter."

"What's a bike?" demanded James.

"Um…" Luke looked a little bit thrown… "It's a thing Muggles ride. Instead of a broom I suppose. It goes along on two wheels instead of flying."

"Does it go fast?" James wanted to know.

"Um… quite fast I s'pose," Luke said, "But I never went on a broom, so I don't know if it's faster."

"Brooms go faster," said Sirius, casually, "But you can make a bike go pretty fast, especially downhill."

They all turned and stared at him.

"How would you know?" Nestor demanded, "You're a Pureblood. And I thought your family were supposed to hate Muggles."

He shrugged.

"I learnt how to ride a bike once. Some Muggle boys showed me. I got into loads of trouble for it though. My mum wouldn't let me play with them again. It was pretty good fun though. I wouldn't mind a bike."

"What _I'd _really like's a motorbike," Luke said eagerly. They all stared at him.

"What's a motorbike?" James asked eventually.

"It's like a bike, but bigger. Much bigger. And it's got an engine, so it goes really fast…"

"What's an engine?" Peter asked.

"Er…" Luke seemed at a bit of a loss to know how to explain an engine. He looked at Sirius, but Sirius knew no more than the others on that one.

"It's a Muggle device," a small, precise voice said. They looked round to find the other boy, Remus Lupin, sitting on his bed and looking at them. With their eyes on him, he looked terrified, as though he couldn't imagine why he had started to speak.

"Er…" he stumbled on, "It's what Muggles put in cars, to make them go. Um… I… I don't really know how it works. But you put something called petrol in it, and when you start it, the petrol burns and makes the engine run. I… it's something like that, anyway."

"Cars?" Peter wrinkled his nose in puzzlement.

"Oh, come on!" James scoffed, "You must know _that_. Those things Muggles ride around in. They're everywhere. Even some wizards have them."

"My dad has one," Remus said mildly, seeming a little more comfortable now that he was part of the conversation.

"Cool!" James beamed at the quiet boy, "I wish mine did."

"That… what-d'you-call-it… the motorbike… that sounds cool too," Sirius said wistfully, "What do they look like, exactly?"

Luke grinned at him.

"If you want, I'll bring you a picture of one when I come back after Christmas."

Sirius grinned back.

"That'd be great. Thanks."

Sirius dreamt that night that he was riding a motorbike - which resembled the bike he had ridden years ago with the Muggles, except that it had a flaming 'engine' on the back - and that the motorbike was not tied to the ground, but flew like a broom, and he was flying off, and his parents and Narcissa and Regulus were on the ground, chasing after him and shouting, but they couldn't catch him because the motorbike went too fast.

It was a good dream.


	3. Of Potions, Girls and Teddy Bears

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that appears in the HP books or films.**

**A/N: Thanks to jessy63, arwenjanelilylyra, Lily Anne Rose (I got it right this time :-P), Tessia, AuntMo, and Victoria Alatamir Wan for the reviews! I've still got some Christmas cake left, so you can have some of that. Back to brownies next time :-)**

**Hope everyone had a good Christmas/whatever else you might have been celebrating at this time of year. I came down with flu on Boxing Day (which is the 26th for those non-Brits), which could have been better timing, but could have been much worse. The fever is now down to manageable levels, so you're getting an update :-).**

**Apologies to Lily Anne Rose, because I promised you an update of something yesterday I believe, and it never materialised. Although it's now after midnight where I am, so it was actually the day before yesterday. Oops.**

**Readers of Choices, prepare to meet an old friend :-D**

* * *

**Of Potions, Girls and Teddy Bears**

Their first lesson the next day was Potions. The twenty four Gryffindor first years trooped into the dungeons, where Professor Slughorn was already waiting for them. He was a large, fat man with a glistening forehead and a wide smile.

"Ah, welcome, welcome," he greeted them, as they sat down.

James sat down beside Sirius. Across the aisle, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were sitting together, as Luke and Nestor seemed to have paired up. There were five other boys from the other dormitory, as well as the girls. Ginger, Sirius noticed, was sitting directly in front of him, beside a pretty girl with straight fair hair, with whom she was chattering animatedly. She looked much nicer when she smiled, Sirius noticed. Much less stuck up.

"Quiet please, First Years," Slughorn called, when they were all sitting, and the noise died down. Sirius lounged back in his chair and listened idly as Slughorn talked about the basic concepts of potion-making, and quizzed various members of the class on their reading. Fortunately, Sirius had had a pretty good grounding in magical knowledge, even if he had fought hard against his parents' efforts to educate him, and he was able to tell Slughorn correctly what the right time of year for picking Starflowers was. Most people in the class could not answer their question, and Slughorn beamed at him.

"Mr Black, isn't it? Sorry not to have you in my house, my boy. But perhaps you have inherited your mother's talent for Potions. Ah, dear Walburga; one of my most talented students, your mother. Do give her my regards."

Sirius thought to himself that his mother would probably not be in the mood for being given regards next time he saw her, and he was inclined to dislike anybody who called her 'dear Walburga,' but he simply nodded stiffly.

James, when it came to his turn, just gaped at Slughorn when asked to name a use for Gillyweed, and most of the others were no better. Remus Lupin, however, although he blushed scarlet when he was picked on and his answer was barely audible, answered correctly, and Ginger, to Sirius' irritation, answered as smugly and confidently as he had himself, even though he was fairly sure she was a Mud… Muggle-born. She must have actually read the books on the list, because there was no other way for her to have known.

"And now," said Slughorn, when he had gone round the class, not seeming to care that most of them had not, apparently, even opened their books before they arrived, "We shall brew a simple little potion today. Please turn to page twelve of your text books, take out your cauldrons and begin. All ingredients can be found here on the front desk; as it is your first lesson, I have laid out what you will need. All you must do is to follow the instructions carefully. Begin!"

"Can't be too difficult, right?" James said, as he stood up to fetch the ingredients, "I mean, all we have to do is put the stuff in and mix it up. This isn't real magic."

He apparently said this a little too loudly, because Ginger turned round.

"Actually," she said, "Potions are one of the most precise arts there is. And one of the most difficult. I'd have thought you'd have known that, with your dad being such a great wizard."

She tossed her head, and marched off to get the ingredients. James looked disconcerted.

"What's _her_ problem?" he muttered to Sirius, who shrugged, grinning. It seemed like the girl didn't like them that much, but he didn't really care. What did she matter?

"Anyway," said James, determinedly, "I bet it _is_ easy."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Sirius was staring glumly into his cauldron, thinking that James might have spoken too soon. He thought he had done everything the instructions had said, but his potion was very definitely sludgy green, not pale yellow, as it ought to have been. James leaned over and grinned.

"Doesn't look much like it's supposed to, mate. What did you do?"

Sirius shrugged, reading down the instructions. James craned over his shoulder.

"Did you forget the Murtlap? Or did you put it in after the Aconite roots?"

"Erm…" a quiet voice spoke beside them, "James?"

James looked up at the concerned face of Remus Lupin, who was leaning over the aisle and looking worried.

"Yeah?"

"Er… have you looked at your potion?"

James glanced at his own cauldron. It was smoking. He looked inside, alarmed, and the mixture was bubbling dangerously. James hurriedly pushed his chair back as far as it would go, and just in time. The mixture exploded with a loud bang, showering both James and Sirius liberally with a sloppy goo the acidic colour of laburnum flowers. A little hit Remus Lupin too, and quite a lot hit the girls in front, who jumped up shrieking.

"Now then!" Professor Slughorn bustled over, looking worried, "What's happened?"

"Er… my potion exploded," James said nervously, "I didn't do anything though." He grinned hopefully at the teacher

Professor Slughorn looked at the mess and sighed.

"Mr Potter, isn't it? Did you put the Aconite roots in whole, rather than chopped?"

"Er…"

"What did I tell you about following the instructions carefully? Potion-making is a very precise art. This particular one is harmless, but if you had been making a more advanced potion, you could have done serious damage. Ah well, no harm done. And I never yet met a Potter with a talent for Potions. Scourgify," with a flick of his wand, he cleaned up the mess, "Well, no time to try again now, Mr Potter. We shall count this one a failure."

He looked at Sirius' cauldron, and looked disappointed. His potion was still green.

"Oh dear, Mr Black. Perhaps you don't have your mother's skill after all. Never mind, never mind. Only a first attempt."

He moved on to the girls' desk. With angry glares at James (and Sirius too, which he thought was very unfair), they had sat down again, and Sirius could see that Ginger's back was stiff with annoyance.

Slughorn looked into her cauldron, and his face broke into a beam.

"My dear! This is perfect," he turned to look back at James and Sirius' scowling faces, "Now, _this_ is what that potion should look like. Take note boys, and follow the instructions more carefully next time," he turned back to Ginger, "What's your name again, my dear?"

"Lily Evans, sir," she said clearly.

"Hmm. Evans, Evans. Can't say the name rings a bell… Did your parents come to Hogwarts, Miss Evans?"

"No," she shook her head, "My parents are Muggles, Professor."

He looked surprised.

"Oh, indeed? Well, well. How very interesting. A very promising start, Miss Evans. Excellent work. Easily the best attempt in the class. Ten points for Gryffindor."

And with one last beam at her, he moved on. James was looking gobsmacked, and Sirius knew how he felt.

Ginger turned round and smirked at them.

"Well, I suppose you were right after all. It _is_ easy. Oh, but I forgot. _You_ couldn't do it, could you?"

The boys scowled, as Ginger's friend giggled, and so did another girl, who was sitting across the aisle and also appeared to be friendly with them.

"Just lucky," James muttered.

"Yeah," Sirius smirked at the girls, "Won't be happening again, Ginger. You might beat us once, but not twice."

The smile had disappeared off her face at the word 'Ginger,' and her eyes narrowed.

"We'll see about that!" she spat angrily, and turned her back on them.

James had recovered his confidence and grinned at Sirius.

"Yeah… we'll show her next time."

Sirius nodded. After all, there was no way a Mu… Muggle-born could be that talented the first time she ever brewed a potion. It had to be just luck. Didn't it?

* * *

The rest of their lessons, over the few days that followed, went better. James turned out to be a natural at Transfiguration, although when Professor McGonagall examined his wand, she said disparagingly that with a wand like that one, it was no wonder. Sirius came into his own in Defence Against the Dark Arts (there wasn't a lot he didn't already know about the Dark Arts; his house was full of them), and they both earned words of praise in Charms. Unfortunately, the third person to win points in that lesson was Lily Evans. They both nodded off in History of Magic, and had to be told by an irritated Remus Lupin what their homework was. Ginger overheard this conversation, and sent a scornful look at Lupin for telling them.

Their first Herbology lesson turned into a bit of a farce, because James threw a clod of earth at Sirius, who threw one back, and the whole thing turned into a glorious fight.

They were almost given detention for this by Professor Sprout, a young woman in her first year of teaching, but escaped on the grounds that it was only the second day of term.

Peter Pettigrew came out of the greenhouses laughing uproariously and gazing admiringly at James and Sirius, but Remus Lupin, who admittedly had been hit by quite a lot of the flung earth, was scowling in an annoyed way.

"Honestly!" Ginger overtook them on the way back to the school, with a small gaggle of girls, "_Boys_!"

"Yeah," a tiny girl, with dark brown curls and a dusting of freckles across her nose, said disgustedly, "I s'pose you think that was _clever_?"

James smirked. "No… but it was fun. Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it, Irvine."

She glowered at him.

"Oh yeah. Getting covered in mud…Great fun," she turned back to the other girls, "I told you. James Potter's just a big-headed idiot. And now it looks like he's found another one to keep him company." She turned on her heel and stalked off, the other girls following.

"Hey!" James yelled after them, indignantly, "I am _not_ big-headed, Odette Irvine! And at least I don't still sleep with my teddy bear!"

Sirius and Peter roared with laughter, and Irvine spun round, an expression of hurt outrage on her face.

"You said you wouldn't tell anyone! And I don't, anyway!"

Ginger and the blonde girl also turned round.

"Ignore him, Odette," the blonde girl said comfortingly.

"Yeah…" Ginger agreed, "And it wouldn't matter, even if you did. I expect _Potter_ still needs to sleep with the light on. Come on."

And they were gone, leaving the boys still chuckling. James frowned.

"I don't sleep with the light on," he clarified.

"We know, mate," Sirius grinned, "We slept in the same room as you the last two nights. We'd have noticed. How did you know about the teddy bear?"

"Oh…" James looked vaguely uncomfortable, "Her mum and my mum are friends. We've known each other forever," he scowled, "She used to be okay. But recently she's turned into a stupid _girl_…"

"I reckon she was probably always a girl, James," Sirius said, straight-faced. James thumped his arm.

"You know what I mean. She used to be fun. Then she went all whiny and goody-goody, like the other girls."

"That wasn't very nice, though," a quiet and increasingly familiar voice said behind them. They turned round. Remus Lupin flushed, but stuck to his guns.

"T… telling everyone like that. You shouted it out in front of everyone."

James glared at the other boy.

"Well, she called me a big-headed idiot. She deserved it."

Remus tilted his head and looked at James for a moment.

"Okay. If you say so."

He carried on towards the castle.

"Well, she did," James repeated, looking a bit unsure of himself.

"Yeah," Peter agreed with him, "She deserved it."

Sirius shrugged. The conversation was making him a little uncomfortable, and he wondered what James would say if he found out about Snuffles. Not that he slept _with_ Snuffles. The stuffed toy dog sat on the end of his bed at home, and was currently living in his trunk (only because he didn't trust Regulus not to steal him, not because he particularly _needed _him at Hogwarts). It was entirely different. And the expression on the girl's face _had_ been funny.

"It doesn't matter," he said casually, "She's only a girl. Her friends didn't care anyway. She'll get over it."

"Yeah," James agreed, but he sounded a little ashamed. He was silent as they walked up to the castle, and as they washed the mud off in the bathroom, he said quietly to Sirius:

"D'you think she was really upset?"

Sirius thought about it.

"I dunno. She looked pretty upset. But you can never tell with girls."

James bit his lip.

"I wish I hadn't shouted it that loud."

"Maybe you should just say sorry?" Remus Lupin suggested from the other side of them.

James scowled.

"Maybe _she_ should say sorry for calling me a big-headed idiot then."

Remus rolled his eyes; apparently his courage was increasing.

"It's not that bad an insult. I can think of worse."

"And actually," Sirius said with a grin, "I think she called me one too."

James and Remus stared at him.

"Yeah… remember?" he said to them, "She said 'and now he's got another one to keep him company.' I reckon she was probably talking about me."

"Yeah, but that's different," James said seriously, "Because with you…" his face cracked into a grin, "with you, it's true!" and he raced off, cackling with laughter, before Sirius could reach him. With a yell of mock fury, Sirius raced after him.

Remus Lupin rolled his eyes again.

Later, after a mad fight on the floor that left them both almost as filthy as they had been before they washed, they walked together towards the Common Room, friendship consolidated by the good-natured scrap.

"D'you think I really should say sorry?" James asked Sirius worriedly, "I mean," he added hastily, "I don't want her to go and tell her mum."

"Well… maybe," Sirius admitted, knowing that he probably wouldn't want to himself. He made a policy of never apologising for anything if he could help it.

"Yeah," James looked happier now that he had reached this decision, "I think I will."

* * *

The apology never happened. They came into the Common Room to be confronted by Robin Grayson, a tall, thin boy in their own year, grinning broadly.

"Hey, Potter," he said, "Is it true your boggart's a _hamster_?"

Sirius choked as James flushed scarlet and stared at the boy in horror.

"No!" he exclaimed, but there was no ring of truth in his voice, "How did you know…? I mean, where did you get that from?"

Grayson laughed.

"Well, that's what Odette Irvine's saying. She says she's seen it, and that you screamed like a girl. She's telling _everyone_."

That was the end of the apology idea.

"Really? A hamster?" Sirius said later, grinning at his furious friend.

"No!" James insisted, his cheeks on fire.

"Yeah, right!"

"Okay, fine! When I was little, I used to have this horrible nightmare where I was being chased by a giant hamster, and I've hated them ever since… Stop laughing, it isn't funny! I hate Odette."

Sirius made an effort and stopped laughing.

"I suppose that _was_ taking things a bit far."

"You think?" James muttered, "I'm never going to live this one down. She's ruined everything…"

"Nah," Sirius shook his head, "Everyone has stupid boggarts, mate. They'll forget about it."

"D'you know what yours is?" James asked curiously.

Sirius shook his head.

"I never saw one."

This was true. He had never seen a boggart. He tried to think of something a boggart might turn into when it saw him, but all the things he came up with were stupid. Whoever heard of a boggart turning into your own father? Or your cousin, come to that?


	4. Of Pranks, Paperclips and Persuasion

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that appears in the HP books or films.**

**A/N: Thanks to arwenjanelilylyra, AuntMo and Chiriko1117 for the reviews. Numbers of reviews are down folks, which makes me sad. I'm going to assume it's because you were all busy having lovely Christmases and New Years, and that therefore numbers will go up again for this chapter. Prove me right, yeah? ;-)**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Of Pranks, Paperclips and Gentle Persuasion**

The days swept by.

James tried to try out for the Quidditch team, and was told that first years were not welcome. He argued, and was told to "get out, for Merlin's sake, and stop wasting our time!" Disgruntled, he complained bitterly to Sirius (and Peter, who had taken to following them around) for the rest of the day.

Sirius was sympathetic, because James could certainly fly. Sirius wasn't too bad himself (he might not have played Quidditch, but he had learned how to fly a broom) but it was evident from their first lesson that James was especially talented. Peter, who wobbled about all over the place on a broom, could not get over how good James was, and became a little irritating in his wide-eyed adoration of the other boy. James didn't really seem to notice the other boy's admiration for him, but treated him with the same casual friendliness he did everyone else, and was happy enough for Peter to tag along with them. Or perhaps he just didn't think it extraordinary for people to think he was wonderful.

Peter also seemed to admire Sirius, although not to the same extent, and Sirius found it distinctly odd. Nobody had ever admired him before.

To their dismay, Lily Evans continued to beat them in Potions, and to give them a run for their money in most of their other subjects too. After the argument with Irvine, she refused to speak to James, and only ever spoke sneeringly to Sirius and Peter. She also continued to hang around with Greasy, whose name turned out to be Severus Snape. James had the genius idea to turn 'Severus' into 'Snivellus,' due to the fact that he always seemed to have a cold.

Snape had got his wish and was in Slytherin, and James was constantly annoyed by the fact that Ginger, as a Gryffindor, was demeaning herself (and by extension, the whole house) by talking to a Slytherin. He was less than tactful about it, apparently forgetting that Slytherin contained Sirius' whole family.

Sirius himself had successfully avoided Narcissa. He had received a Howler from his mother on his third morning, that had made him sink into his chair with humiliation, and might have depressed him if James hadn't simply found it funny. Peter had been round-eyed and horrified, and Remus Lupin, whose normal attitude to James and Sirius was one of irritation, had actually looked sorry for him. But James had roared with laughter, and seemed to think a Howler within your first week was some kind of achievement, and Andromeda had cornered him afterwards and muttered hastily:

"Don't take any notice. It's fine, it doesn't matter. Don't be ashamed of who you are, Sirius!" before disappearing rapidly.

So Sirius had dismissed the Howler, thinking he would deal with his parents' anger when he had to go home, and meanwhile would enjoy himself. And the next week, his spirits were further bolstered when a letter arrived for him from Uncle Alphard, who had never written to him before.

"Hear you're in Gryffindor," it said, "Good for you, lad. You're braver than I was. They won't be happy, but it doesn't matter. Just be yourself and don't let them get to you. And if you ever need someone to put in a word on your side, just let me know."

He had known he liked Uncle Alphard, but he hadn't expected that Uncle Alphard would… well, sound almost pleased that Sirius wasn't in Slytherin. He was fairly sure Uncle Alphard must have been in Slytherin himself, or Sirius would have heard about it. He wondered what 'you're braver than I was' meant.

After the Howler, there was no communication from his parents, and Sirius suspected that they were trying to punish him already, but really, _not_ hearing from them wasn't much of a punishment. The longer it went on, the better.

So he put them out of his mind, and concentrated on other things.

Like James' ongoing war with Odette Irvine. Sirius was beginning to think that James hadn't told him all there was to know about why they were no longer friends. Sirius had never really had friends before. He didn't think he could count those Muggles he had spent an afternoon with, and he didn't particularly want to count his brother. He had thought that the Pureblood children he had met at his parents' stupid parties were his friends, but those who were his own age or older and therefore at Hogwarts, now shunned him utterly, and he found he wasn't terribly upset by it, which perhaps said something about their friendships. They were smug idiots anyway.

Was that the way friends always behaved? Did you hang around together, and play together, and laugh and talk and get into trouble together, and then as soon as you had a disagreement, you started hating each other? That was what had happened with him and his old Pureblood friends, and that seemed to be what had happened between James and Irvine, but something told Sirius that that shouldn't be how friends were. He hoped that that wouldn't happen with him and James and Pete, but he worried about it. Perhaps it was inevitable; perhaps nobody stayed friends forever.

He wished James would tell him why he hated Irvine; it wasn't just because she had told everyone about his boggart, because he hadn't liked her before that. James said it was because she had turned annoying, but was that really all it was?

But whatever it was, after the day with the teddy bear and the boggart, there was no going back. James had sworn revenge, and demanded Sirius' help. Irvine seemed to expect it, and looked suspiciously at them whenever they met and avoided getting too close. So James and Sirius did nothing for a while.

"Make her think we're not going to do anything," Sirius had whispered, "Then, when she's not expecting it – WHAM!"

James had looked at his friend with respect. He had clearly never thought of being that devious. Subtlety was not James Potter's strongest point. Deviousness and subtlety, though, were what Sirius had been brought up on.

Irvine hadn't stopped spreading the story until she knew the whole house had heard about it, from the whole of their own year, right up to Marlene McKinnon, the Head Girl. Which inevitably meant that some people from other houses had heard about it too. Snivellus had made some unpleasant comments, and James had only refrained from attacking him because Professor McGonagall had walked around the corner, which hadn't relieved James' feelings very much, and he had been left seething.

Snivellus had almost certainly got his information from Ginger, for the two could often be seen giggling together, and so Lily Evans got included in the Great Revenge Plan, as James called it. Sirius thought they could have come up with something more original (personally, he had favoured Operation Hamster, but James had looked murderous when he suggested this, so he had let it drop).

But James had agreed to wait only so long, so although Sirius thought they could have left it a bit longer, at the end of the third week of term, they put the Great Revenge Plan into action.

It went well. Sirius thought he hadn't seen anything as funny in his life as Ginger's outraged face when she realised that she had just walked through the school with a huge fluorescent green patch on the seat of her robes, thanks to the Magical Stain Powder that had been spread on their chairs before they sat down in History of Magic.

The third member of Ginger's trio, one Genevieve Farrall of the sleek blonde hair, had avoided being targeted. Sirius had argued that they should do the thing thoroughly, but James had said that Farrall hadn't done anything, and anyway he didn't want to waste the Stain Powder, which had been bought in Diagon Alley and couldn't be replaced until Christmas, and perhaps not then.

Farrall had been walking beside her friends though and had noticed nothing, and so it was not pointed out to them until they had walked the length of the school, when one of the other girls had, giggling madly, finally told them that she thought they must have brushed up against something.

When they had craned round at themselves, and then demanded that Farrall tell them how bad it was, they looked round, expressions of fury on their faces. It didn't take them long to identify the culprits; James, Sirius and Peter (who had been in on the joke) were giggling helplessly.

Angrily, Ginger stalked up to them.

"Get it off!" she hissed, her eyes narrow green slits, and even her curls seeming wilder than usual.

James shook his head.

"Can't! It's Stain Powder!" and he dissolved into laughter again. Ginger looked confused.

"What's stain powder?"

And Sirius remembered, with a jolt of surprise, because he hadn't thought about it for a while, that she was Muggle-born.

"_Stupid_ stuff you buy in joke shops!" Irvine told her friend furiously, "You can't get it off. It wears off, but it takes all day."

Ginger stared at them, her mouth setting into an angry line.

"Just you wait!" she spat, "You three! You think you're so clever, but just you wait! We'll beat you any day!"

Two days later, they had to admit that the girls had indeed beaten them, because they discovered (about half-way through breakfast) that at some point, the girls had been up to their room and put itching powder in their underwear.

After the three of them had sat for a few minutes, scarlet faced and writhing as the discomfort increased, while Irvine and Farrall giggled at them, and Evans watched them with wide eyes and an innocent expression, Peter eventually gave up the fight and fled. Irvine and Farrall almost collapsed with laughter at this point, and James and Sirius looked desperately at each other.

"What's the matter with him?" Luke Dalton asked, nodding his head at Peter, who was hurrying out of the door.

"Um… dunno… I'll go and find out," said James, "Coming, Sirius?"

"Yeah," Sirius agreed quickly, and they retreated in as dignified way as was possible, which wasn't very.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder as they left. Irvine and Farrall were almost falling off their chairs, while everyone else looked at them in a bemused fashion. Evans was quietly eating her breakfast with a satisfied smile on her face.

James was livid at this victory, and by this time, the others weren't far behind him. Sitting on James' bed a few days later, they began to put together an elaborate plan for revenge.

"I wish we could get up to their rooms," James complained, "It's not fair that they can get at our stuff, but we can't get at theirs."

It had been Sirius himself who had discovered that boys could not get into the girls' dormitories, when he had tried the previous week, only to find himself on the floor as the stairs turned into a slide, much to the amusement of everybody who had watched the attempt.

"Yeah," Sirius looked thoughtful, "but… hey! You've still got some of that Stain Powder, right?"

"Yes, but we can't do the same thing again," said James, wrinkling his nose.

"No, not the same thing," Sirius said, impatiently, "Something different. We could use different colours too; you've got some others, haven't you? 'Cause I think I've thought of a way to get up to the girls' rooms…"

"What?" James looked doubtful.

"Well, there are no barrier spells there…"

"How d'you know?"

Sirius looked surprised.

"'Cause I'd have felt them when I tried before. I know what barrier spells feel like; my dad's got them round some rooms in my house…" he realised that James and Peter were both looking at him in surprise at this, so he hastened on, not wanting to have to explain why his father might have barrier spells round certain rooms, "But anyway, if there aren't any barriers, it's literally just that slide. So all we have to do is nick brooms from the Quidditch cupboard, and we can fly up. We'd have to choose a time when there was nobody in the Common Room, obviously…"

James' eyes were gleaming, and Peter giggled.

"That's brilliant," James breathed, "And then… what were you thinking with the Stain Powder."

Sirius grinned triumphantly.

"Well, what about putting it in their shampoo? Then when they use it, it'll dye their hair green, or whatever colour we use…"

James crowed with laughter.

"Sirius, you're a genius! They'll be furious!"

There was a scoffing noise from one of the other beds. They looked around to find Remus Lupin, whom they had forgotten was there, lying on his bed reading a book.

"What?" demanded James with a scowl. Lupin had lost a lot of his shyness, but he still tended to keep himself to himself. Now he rolled his eyes.

"Well, that'll never work."

"Why not?" Sirius said indignantly.

"I think it's a great idea," Peter piped up loyally.

"Don't you think the girls'll notice, if their shampoo suddenly turns green? They'll never use it! And they'll know it was you. You couldn't do it with Stain Powder. You'd need that _Tingere Leuco_ stuff or something."

Remus went back to his book.

The next thing he knew, his bed bounced violently, twice. He glanced up, startled, to find James and Sirius either side of him, both gazing expectantly at him.

"Um…" he said.

"What _Tingere_… whatever-it-was stuff?" demanded Sirius.

He stared at them.

"That stuff Professor Slughorn was talking about. You know. But I didn't mean… I mean, there's no way you could actually _get_ any!"

"But what does it do?" persisted Sirius.

"I'd have thought you'd have known that," said Remus, turning a page of his book in an irritating way, "You speak Latin, don't you?"

"Well… yeah… sort of…" Sirius thought about it, "Tingere… isn't that 'to paint,' or something? So it's another dye? But I don't know the other word."

"It means 'colourless,'" Remus explained absently, "That's what Professor Slughorn said, anyway. I can't believe you don't remember. It was only the other day."

Sirius and James exchanged glances.

"We probably weren't listening," said Sirius with a grin. Remus rolled his eyes again.

"Nothing new there then."

"So… I don't get it," Peter had joined them, and perched on the end of Remus' bed, "How can paint or dye or whatever it is, be colourless? And how would it be any use to us? We want something coloured!"

Once more, Remus rolled his eyes.

"No, you want something that _looks _colourless, but still dyes things different colours. That's what this does. You could put it in their shampoo, or whatever stupid idea you had, and they wouldn't notice any difference, but it would dye their hair a different colour."

James and Sirius looked at each other, and then back down at Remus.

"But we couldn't get any?" James sounded disappointed.

"Not unless you wanted to raid Professor Slughorn's cupboard," said Remus sarcastically.

There was silence from the boys either side of him. He turned over another page of his book, but at that moment, it was slid away from him.

"Hey!" he protested, making a grab for it, but Sirius held it out of reach, grinning. Remus looked at James. There was an identical grin on the other boy's face. Remus looked worried.

"Oh no. No way. You can't…"

"No, you're right," James agreed, "We couldn't. We wouldn't even know what the stuff looked like. But you would, right?"

"No!" said Remus, firmly.

"No, you wouldn't know what it looked like, or no, you won't help us get it?" Sirius queried.

"I won't help you get it," said Remus, then, realising his mistake, "And I wouldn't know what it looked like either."

But he was lying. Sirius could tell he was lying, and looked across at James. The boy's brown eyes were glittering with excitement.

"Oh, come on Remus!" he said, coaxingly.

"No," Remus made a grab for his book, but Sirius held it out of reach again.

"Come on."

"No."

"Please?"

"NO!"

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this!" moaned Remus Lupin, as James slowly pushed open the door to the Potions Dungeon.

"Come on," whispered James, "Pete. Stay here and keep watch."

Peter nodded, excitement bubbling off him.

The other three slipped inside, Remus looking terrified.

"It's locked," whispered Sirius, trying the handle of the cupboard.

"Of course it's locked!" hissed James, "Out of the way!"

He took a small thin piece of wire out of his pocket. It was more or less straight, with the odd kink in it.

"What's that?" asked Sirius, curiously.

"Paperclip," muttered James, inserting the wire into the keyhole.

"What's that? And what are you doing?"

James was concentrating too hard to reply, but Remus looked at Sirius with amazement.

"You've never heard of paperclips? But everyone uses them! I know they're a Muggle thing, but you must have seen some."

"My parents don't use anything Muggle," Sirius muttered, "They prefer to do things by magic."

"Oh," Remus looked thoughtfully at him, "Well… a paperclip's something Muggles, and lots of wizards too actually, use to fasten bits of paper together. And it looked like James is using it to pick the lock… though I don't know where he learnt to do that."

"Picked it up somewhere," James said, vaguely, "Now, wait a minute. Yes. There!" There was a click, and James straightened up, grinning triumphantly.

He grabbed the handle and the door opened. The three of them crept in.

"I can't believe you two," Remus muttered again, "We're going to steal from a teacher! If we're caught…"

"Shut up, and we won't be."

Ten minutes later, and they were retreating from the Potions classroom in triumph, Sirius clutching a small vial into which they had poured some clear liquid that looked exactly like water, out of the jar marked _'Tingere Leuco_.'

* * *

Odette Irvine stumbled out of bed and headed sleepily for the showers. Evie Farrall and Lauren Azackerly had got there ahead of her, and Evie came out of the cubicle as Odette got to the bathroom.

"Hey, Odette," the other girl said cheerfully. Odette mumbled something in reply and went past without looking at her friend; she disliked mornings intensely.

Evie, who was a morning person, giggled and proceeded into the dormitory. Lily was still curled up in bed.

"Hey, Lily," Evie called, "You're going to be late!"

There was no reply, so she went across, pulled the curtains apart and prodded her friend.

Lily groaned, rolled over and opened her eyes. For a moment, she simply stared at Evie, as she woke up properly and her eyes took in what they were seeing.

Then she shrieked loudly.

* * *

To the boys' disappointment (even Remus seemed quite keen to see the results of their prank) Evans had apparently escaped without dying her hair. And the blue dye they had procured did not really show up very well on Irvine's dark curls. But the effect could not have been better on Evie Farrall, whose sleek blonde locks were a beautiful shade of cyan, and her cheeks an almost equally bright shade of pink. They had not known whose shampoo was whose, so Lauren Azackerly had managed to be victimised too. Her hair was not as blonde as Farrall's, but it was a kind of light brown, and the effect was quite noticeable.

The girls were getting a lot of stares from everyone in the Great Hall.

"Nice colour," a fifth year boy, whom Sirius thought was Gideon Prewett (he and his twin brother Fabian were virtually indistinguishable, but both were known as the stars of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and as the worst trouble-makers in the school) commented to Farrall with a grin, and she blushed even harder.

"This had _better_ not be permanent," Irvine said furiously to a grinning James.

James' grin faltered a little, and he looked at Remus.

"_Is_ it?"

Irvine turned furiously on Remus.

"This was you as well? I thought you had a bit more sense than _those _idiots! Obviously not!"

Remus looked uncomfortable.

"Um... I don't think it's permanent..."

"Well, it had better not be" she repeated grimly, and the girls turned and made for the other end of the table, obviously intending to get as far from their enemies as possible.

"That was you?" one of the Prewett brothers asked interestedly, eyeing the boys carefully, "Just out of interest, what did you use?"

"Tingere Leuco," Sirius said offhandedly.

The red-haired boy grinned.

"Nice one. For a bunch of kids anyway," he winked at them, and turned back to his own breakfast. James and Sirius grinned triumphantly at each other. The Prewett twins were not only the stars of the Quidditch team, but renowned troublemakers too; they were, as James had put it, about as cool as you could get.

* * *

"They're going to be in our stuff all the time now!" Odette Irvine groaned to her friends, "Now they can get up the stairs! How did they do it anyway? I don't get it!"

Lily looked thoughtful.

"D'you think you can get a broom up the stairs? I mean, flying it? I've seen some of the older boys up here too, so there must be a way. And Potter likes flying, doesn't he?"

"He's obsessed with it," Odette agreed, "I s'pose that might be how they did it. But I don't see how we can stop them doing it again."

Lily grinned evilly.

"Well, I do. I've got a plan."

* * *

They had Potions that afternoon. It was Sirius' least favourite subject. Ginger and co. continued to get top marks and be Slughorn's favourites, while it was the only lesson Sirius couldn't seem to get the hang of properly. He just couldn't be bothered with it; all that slicing up into tiny pieces and grating as finely as possible; it got on his nerves. He didn't get why you couldn't just throw everything in. Why did it make a difference what shape it was in? But apparently, it did make a difference. At least, it made the difference between Ginger's perfect marks every lesson and his own dismal ones.

Irvine, Farrall and Ginger were whispering to each other as they came into the classroom. Farrall's hair was still bright blue, and James and Sirius exchanged broad grins.

"You'd better do it," he heard Irvine say to Ginger as they passed them, "Slughorn loves you..."

Ginger stayed behind after that lesson to talk to the teacher, but the boys thought nothing of it - at least, until they came into the Common Room after dinner that evening and found Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick standing there.

"Well, so Professor Slughorn informed me," McGonagall was saying to Marlene McKinnon, the Head Girl, "He said that he'd heard that there were noisy parties going on in the girls' dormitories, which were stopping some pupils from working. Now, you know that the rules state that boys are not allowed in the girls' dormitories..."

"Yes, I know, Professor, but it does seem a little out of date," McKinnon was saying politely, "And honestly, I don't know who Professor Slughorn's been talking to, but it's absolute nonsense. There aren't any parties in the dormitories..."

McGonagall looked almost sympathetic.

"Well, I see your point," she said, "But nevertheless, it is tradition, and it is the rule. And if there are people flaunting the rule then we must deal with it. I had hoped that it was not necessary to block _every_ entry to the girls' dormitories, but evidently I was wrong. _Somebody_ has obviously been breaking the rule, or Professor Slughorn would not have heard about it."

"No offence, Professor," McKinnon was starting to sound a little less polite, "But it's nothing to do with Professor Slughorn what happens in the Gryffindor tower..."

"I am aware of that," McGonagall also sounded impatient, "Which is precisely why he informed _me_ of it. I am sure that it will not surprise you to hear that the rule for Gryffindors is exactly the same as the rule for all other houses. Professor Slughorn is checking the Slytherin rooms as we speak, as are the other House Heads. And really, Miss McKinnon, this is not a matter to get upset about. I cannot think why you are as opposed to it as you are. We are simply upholding the school rules."

And with that, the argument seemed to be over, although the other older students who had gathered round did not seem altogether happy about it, particularly some of the male ones. Their teachers however, were evidently performing broomstick wards over the girls' stairs, and there was little the students could do about it.

Sirius nudged James.

"Hey... d'you think this is because of us? Ginger stayed to talk to Slughorn today..."

James looked horrified.

"Shut up, idiot! If _they_ hear that it was our fault...!" he jerked his head at the disgruntled older students, who were beginning to disperse now that the spells were complete and the professors were departing.

They, Remus and Peter hovered at the bottom of the stairs.

"It doesn't _look_ any different," Remus commented.

"The worst thing is," James said, "It means we can never get up here again. They can get at _our_ stuff, but we can't touch theirs..."

"Excuse me. Would you mind moving out of the way?"

They turned to find Irvine, Farrall and Evans behind them.

"This was your fault, wasn't it?" Sirius demanded, "Wait 'til people find out it was you, Ginger. They're not going to be happy..."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Evans said smugly.

"Yeah right," James scoffed, "We know you talked to Slughorn."

Evans smirked at him.

"Prove it!" she hissed, before turning on her heel and marching up the stairs with the others.

James, his face a picture of fury, leaned up after them, gripping the bannister.

"Just you wait, Evans! You're going to regret doing that!"


	5. Of Family Love and Keeping Secrets

**A/N: Many apologies for how long it's taken me to update this story. Illness, writer's block and computer issues all conspired against me. I really hope I have some reviewers left - lots of virtual biscuits for anyone who reviews! **

**At some point in the near future, I'm going to skip over a few years, because at this rate, this story is going to end up being ridiculously long. This chapter, on the other hand, is very short. Too short, I think, but at least it's finished, and hopefully the writer's block is broken.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 5: Of Family Love, Loyalty and Keeping Secrets

Life fell into a pattern. Remus Lupin got swept along into their little group, and after a short time in which he struggled to talk sense into the other three, he gave it up as a bad job and went along with it. And, to Sirius' surprise, soon became an invaluable friend. He thought of details and possible snags that James and Sirius' enthusiasm had overlooked, and he came up with the odd genius idea of his own.

They were a foursome; they were the kings of pranks and the leaders of their year, and nobody could challenge them...

Except for Evans, Irvine and Farrall, who could and did.

The pranks died down a little after the blue hair incident, and dropped away altogether after the boys worked out how to set up the door of their dormitory magically so that whoever walked through it promptly found themselves deluged with water and sitting on the floor.

They were quite pleased with that one; it was an ingenious combination of the Aguamenti charm and a simple Muggle booby trap. Of course, it got Luke Dalton the first time too, because they hadn't managed to warn him in time, and he was quite angry with them, but that was a minor incident. It also got all three girls the next time they tried to get into the boys' dormitory. They didn't try again, and Operation Booby Trap was announced a resounding success.

But although things had simmered down, nothing had been forgotten, and the smaller spats continued. The final victory was yet to be won by either side.

Sirius rarely thought about Slytherin and his family. He was a Gryffindor now, and he proudly flaunted red and gold whenever he could, and joined with James in his baiting of Snivellus and the other Slytherins. Drunk on freedom and the joy of friendship, he hardly noticed the looks he was getting from Narcissa and some of the older Slytherins. Life was there to be enjoyed, and he planned on enjoying it.

Then came the end of term, and the day he had to go home for Christmas.

His parents were angry. His mother spat furious words about Blood Traitors and Shame and Disgrace, and his father used a spell on him that left a long red mark like a whiplash across his cheek, and banished him to his bedroom, to think of what he had done to the Black family name.

Sirius made the mistake of asking what was so shameful about Gryffindor, when there were plenty of Purebloods there too and when the whole house was known for bravery. That earned him a matching stripe across the other side of his face, and a warning against impudence.

Kreacher was sent up with a plate with two slices of dry bread on it for his dinner, and when he demanded at least another slice, the House Elf sneered at him and said that two was his Mistress's order, and called Sirius a filthy little Blood Traitor.

Shocked (Kreacher had never spoken to him with anything other than respect before) and furious, Sirius flung the plate of bread at the House Elf, shouting that he didn't want it anyway; he'd rather be hungry. Kreacher had already disappeared though, and the plate hit the opposite wall.

Sirius curled up on his bed and tried to read a book, but he wasn't Remus, who could always take comfort in books, and he couldn't concentrate.

An hour or two later, hunger forced him to swallow his pride, and pick the bread out of the bits of shattered plate on the floor and eat it. It wasn't very much, and he went to bed starving.

In the middle of the night, he was woken by a hand shaking his shoulder, and almost shouted, but realised in time that it was only Regulus, who had brought him some cold, squashed bits of steak and potato from his own dinner.

"I had to wait 'til they were in bed," his brother whispered, "I heard Mother tell Kreacher just to bring you bread..."

"Thanks, Reg," Sirius accepted the gift quietly. At moments like this, he almost felt bad for some of his thoughts about Regulus.

Regulus sat on his bed and watched him eat for a few moments.

"Why are you in Gryffindor?" he asked eventually.

Sirius, feeling much better now that he wasn't so hungry, grinned at Regulus.

"'Cause it's the best house! Much better than stupid old Slytherin!"

Regulus looked shocked.

"It isn't, Sirius. You don't mean that," he looked worried, "What if _I'm_ in Gryffindor too?"

Sirius shrugged.

"So what if you are?" he grinned at Regulus, willing to forgive his little brother anything right now, "We'd be in the same house! It'd be great!"

For the shortest of moments, Regulus looked pleased; pleased that his older brother thought being in the same house as him would be great. Then his eyes clouded.

"I don't want to be in Gryffindor," he said, "I don't want to get _that._" He pointed at Sirius' cheek.

Sirius shrugged. Regulus wasn't starting Hogwarts for nearly a year. There was plenty of time to worry about which house he would be in.

* * *

After that, his punishment seemed to be over. His parents left him in no doubt that he was still a disappointment and a disgrace, but he ignored them.

Christmas was spent at his aunt and uncle's house. Bellatrix was in a good mood, and apart from some mocking comments about his house, left him alone and spent most her time with their mothers, talking about possible wedding arrangements, because it seemed that Rodolphus Lestrange was probably going to propose to Bella some time soon. It all seemed ridiculously complicated, and all about money and appearances. Sirius felt almost sorry for Rodolphus, who apparently had no say in anything (and hadn't even asked the question yet), and made up his mind never to propose to anybody.

Narcissa liked these conversations and always tried to sit in on them, and Andromeda spent most of the time up in her room, only emerging for meal times and for a brief period on Christmas morning. Sirius went up to see her once, a few days after they arrived, and found her writing a letter to somebody, which she hastily covered up as he came in, a panicked look on her face that disappeared when she saw who it was.

"Who are you writing to?" Sirius asked.

"Oh... just a friend," she said vaguely, but he thought she was lying. She didn't seem to mind him interrupting though, and after that he took to going up there quite often. She was quite often scribbling what looked like letters on pieces of parchment, but she would never tell him who they were to.

It was Andromeda whom Sirius went to for help, when he realised that he probably ought to send Christmas presents to his friends. She looked thoughtful when she heard the problem.

"Do you have any money?" she asked.

"I've got some in my Gringotts vault," he said, "But I can't get it. I just get a bit every term and that's it."

She looked at the amount he had managed to save from his first term's allowance, and looked surprised and amused.

"Sirius, you're a first year. You can't even go to Hogsmeade. How did you manage to spend that much in a term?"

He shrugged.

"I bought some stuff in Diagon Alley before term started. And I spent the rest on stuff from the trolley on the train."

She rolled her eyes.

"Well... okay. How about you use what you've got and I'll lend you the rest? Then you can pay me pack from your next term's money."

She even took him with her on a secret visit to Diagon Alley, not bothering to question why he wanted to keep the Christmas gifts a secret. His parents did not approve of his Gryffindor friends; they would not be happy if they knew that he was buying anything for them.

When they got there, and he had finished throwing up after the side-along Apparition, which always made him ill, she sent him off to find his presents, telling him to come back to the Leaky Cauldron in an hour.

He wandered up the street, revelling in being completely alone. Of course, there would be hell to pay if anyone found out that he and Dromeda had gone, but hopefully they would all be too busy discussing Rodolphus Lestrange.

So he didn't think about the possible trouble, but instead concentrated his efforts on more constructive things, like levitating an elderly wizard's hat off his head and onto the top of a lamp post. After watching with enjoyment the old man's angry reaction, Sirius moved on before anyone realised that it had been him, and enjoyed himself walking round the street. It was full of people Christmas shopping, and although it was cold, there was a cheerful, festive feel to it. There was a Christmas tree up at the far end of the street, and most of the shops had lights up.

Having purchased three large boxes of sweets, he made his way back slowly to the Leaky Cauldron, well aware that he had been longer than Andromeda had told him to be (he had got distracted in the Magical Menagerie, looking longingly at a litter of Crup puppies). But even so, he could not immediately see her as he entered the Leaky Cauldron. He looked around, and eventually located her over in the far corner, sitting with a boy about her own age. After a moment, Sirius recognised him; he was the Hufflepuff 7th Year Prefect. But what was he doing with Andromeda?

The question was answered a moment later, as he pushed his way towards them, his arms full of sweets. He stopped dead as the boy bent his head towards Dromeda and kissed her. His mouth fell open. Dromeda... kissing a boy? Kissing a Hufflepuff boy, whom Sirius knew that her parents did not know that she was going out with. He was not a member of their Pureblood circles; it was no wonder that Andromeda had kept it a secret.

Certain things – like Dromeda's closed expression whenever anyone asked her about her love life, and the secret letters she had been writing all holidays – suddenly clicked into place.

The kiss seemed to last far too long to Sirius – didn't they have to breathe? And all he could do was stand like an idiot and wait for them to stop, which they did eventually. Andromeda pulled away from the boy, opened her eyes, and stared straight at Sirius. The next minute, she had jumped to her feet with an exclamation, and the boy had looked round with anxiety, his eyes also fixing on Sirius.

Sirius looked nervously at them, not sure how to respond. For a moment, they all just stood there. Then Andromeda put her hand on the boy's chest and whispered something to him. She seemed to be telling him to leave, but he shook his head firmly, and turned to Sirius. He had a nice expression in his eyes, Sirius thought. His brown eyes were friendly, although slightly embarrassed and worried right now.

"You're Sirius, aren't you?" he said, coming towards Sirius.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, with a glance at Andromeda.

"Ted Tonks," the boy held out a hand, "You probably don't know me. I'm in Hufflepuff..."

"I know." Sirius took the hand that was held out to him, and found it being shaken firmly.

"Are you two going out?" he burst out.

Tonks and Andromeda looked at each other, and Andromeda came forwards and tucked her arm into the boy's.

"Yes," she said determindly, "We are. But you mustn't tell anyone, Sirius."

Tonks looked at him, and Sirius thought he seemed almost nervous.

"He won't tell anyone, Dromeda. Will you, kid? Andromeda said you weren't like the others. I suppose being in Gryffindor proves that..." he looked anxiously at Sirius.

Sirius glanced at his cousin, unable to help being pleased that she had told her boyfriend that he was not like the rest of the family.

"Course I won't tell anyone," he agreed, enthusiasm for the secret lighting up his eyes, "I never tell them anything anyway."

* * *

They returned home to find that nobody had missed them, but that Bellatrix had also gone out (with Lestrange and some other friends) and had come back in a dangerously playful mood. Andromeda, who had been very quiet ever since they had left Ted Tonks in the Leaky Cauldron, disappeared off to her room without a backward glance, and Sirius somehow felt that today, she wanted privacy. He took refuge in his own room (the guest room he was sharing with Regulus), having no wish to meet Bellatrix in her current mood.

However, he had reckoned without his cousin herself. He had just settled himself onto his bed, started his Transfiguration homework, changed his mind and reached instead for the Muggle magazine Luke had sent him by owl, when the door opened. He looked up, expecting it to be Regulus, hastily shoving the colourful pages of cars and motorbikes underneath a piece of parchment. If Regulus saw him with it, he'd be bound to tell their mother.

It wasn't Regulus, but Sirius was glad that he had pushed the magazine out of sight just the same.

It was Bellatrix.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at him, a smile playing round her lips. He looked nervously back at her.

"What are you doing, Sirius?" she asked, in friendly tones.

"Transfiguration homework," he said automatically. Her eyebrows shot up.

"Homework? Hogwarts has transformed you then," she said mockingly, "Since when does my little cousin do his homework _willingly_?"

He simply shrugged, unable to think of a reply to this.

She wandered into his room, and closed the door behind her. For some reason, that made him more nervous. She looked at him, and laughed suddenly.

"Oh, Sirius! You look terrified of me. What on earth's the matter? You don't think I've come up here to crucio you or something, do you?"

Sirius knew what the Cruciatus Curse was. He had never before imagined his beautiful, elegant cousin using it, despite her liking for small cruelties, but her words, spoken so casually, made him picture it suddenly. It was disturbingly easy to imagine, and the thought didn't reassure him very much, even though – or perhaps especially because – she was standing there, smiling charmingly at him.

"It's all right," she told him, a hint of impatience in her voice, "Relax, Sirius."

She sat down on his bed beside him, and he edged away from her, pretending that he was just giving her space.

She looked at him, and he saw something intense in her face that he had never seen before.

"All I want," she said quietly, "is to ask you a few questions, Sirius."


End file.
